My phone buzzed withthe interruption of a call. Jon’s name lit up the screen and I stared for threeseconds too long and it went to voicemail. I swallowed and tucked the phoneinto my lap.
I hadn’t mentioned thenight to Grandma when I came home to relieve Tim, her new home aid. I couldn’t.When she had asked how the night went, I told her it was fine. I guess I didn’twant to admit that I had allowed a toddler to watch Freddy Kreuger rip apart abunch of teenagers.
The heat ofembarrassment lit my cheeks, and I turned away from the laptop to glance outthe window. God, the worst part about it all was that, despite my qualms aboutbabysitting in the first place, Ilikedthose girls. A lot. I mean, I had expected my first night with them to be fullof torture and tests of my patience, but it had been the opposite. We’d hadfun, talking, playing and eating dinner. They were sweet and undeniablyadorable.
Admittedly, I had alsothought the same of their father, but now, I wasn’t entirely convinced. I’dscrewed up, and foolishly so, but he had scolded me and made me feel like anidiot.
I knew I’d be wearingthat shame for a while.
The phone vibrated asecond time. I lifted it to see that Jon was calling me again, and this time, Ianswered.
“Hello?”
“H-hey Tess …” He leftthe words hanging, as though he intended on following them up with something.More belittlement perhaps, or maybe even an apology, but nothing came. Only silence.
I sighed heavily as Istood from the desk and moved to sit on my bed. “Did you want to talk aboutsomething?” I swallowed, preparing myself for another verbal lashing.
“Actually, yeah.” Hisvoice was gruff and strained. I might even say he sounded upset, but I couldn’tbegin to understand why. Guilt, maybe.
“Okay …”
“I’m sorry.”
I allowed myself asmall smile at the apology. “It’s okay—”
“No,” he statedharshly, cutting me off. “No, it’s not.”
Swallowing, I blinkedrapidly, staring at the door ahead of me. “I shouldn’t have let them watch thatmovie. You were right.”
There was a huff, a groan,and then the scraping of chair legs against a floor. I wrapped my fingers intothe hem of my dress, hoping I wasn’t about to face the wrath of Jon O’Dell.Again.
“It wasn’t about themovie,” he admitted. “I mean, it was, but …” He sighed exhaustedly. “Tess, Ialready knew before tonight that I was going to fire you.”
My jaw flopped open. “Fireme?W-why?”
I waited for what feltlike minutes for Jon to reply.Fire me?What reason would he have tofireme? Hell, even after allowing histoddler to watch a violent slasher movie, I hadn’t thought I wasfired. I just thought things would beawkward, or maybe I’d be on some sort of probation period. Butfired?
Jon O’Dell wasruthless, but underneath it all, I just thought he was sad. There was a storythere, and I wondered what it was.
I didn’t have to wonderfor long.
“Because, well …because …” He cleared his throat, then chuckled, and there wasn’t an ounce ofhumor in that laugh. “Well, there isn’t a good reason, when I really thinkabout it.”
Don’tcry.“Oh,” I replied, my voice tight and rasped. “Well. That’s great.”
“Oh, God,” he groanedinto the phone, followed by a tremored sigh. “Okay, listen … My mother has beenwatching my daughters every day for the past couple of years, because eversince my wife …” He hesitated, breathing directly into the phone for a fewbeats of my curious heart. “Ever since my wife passed away, I’ve needed thehelp.”
My lips fell open witha silent gasp, and my fingers left my dress to clutch over my heart. “I’m sosorry,” I uttered breathlessly, not knowing what else to say.
He ignored my apology.Maybe he hadn’t really heard it at all. “It sounds so ridiculous, but it’s been… It’s beenso hardto move forwardand make these decisions bymyself.Butmy mom’s also been driving me out of my mind. She keeps trying to set me upwith women becauseshethinks it’stime, and so Jeff offered you the job because he was tired of my complaining,and … Well, you know the rest. And I thought I was okay. I thought I could doit, but …” His voice dropped to a whisper; his breathing labored. “It’s just sohard.”
Defeat was etchedthrough every one of his words, coalescing with his evident heartbreak andexhaustion, and I ached for him. Complete empathy. I held my hand, flattenedagainst my chest, and felt the thrust of my heart.
“I can’t even imagine,”I whispered, hot tears brimming my eyes.
He sniffed against thephone and I wondered if he was crying. I wondered if he’d admit it if he was.“I wouldn’t ask you to, even if you could. These past couple of years have beenHell, and I … I don’t even know how to get myself out of it.”
Then, he laughed again.Now bitterly. Sadly. “God, I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you. I calledto say I was sorry, and I just … I guess I really just needed to talk tosomeone.”
